


Simon Snow Fell Down a Hill

by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter)



Series: Signs of Affection Prompts [4]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Blood, Domestic, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-05 10:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14616055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChessPargeter/pseuds/bazypitchandsimonsnow
Summary: Simon is clumsy and has a bad fall. Baz is exasperated but takes care of his klutzy boyfriend.Based "kiss below the waist" request.





	Simon Snow Fell Down a Hill

**Author's Note:**

> Alright this request was difficult to come up with an idea for because every idea I had was porn. But I've been running on about 3-6 hours sleep for like two months so I do not have the energy for that. Sorry to the requester if that’s what you wanted. I hope you like some good ol’ fashioned fluff! This idea actually came from Mrs_ZombieOctopus so big thanks to her. It's really just a lot of fluffy goodness/nonsense. Hope y'all enjoy it! :D

**Simon**

I really thought (more hoped) that my limping days would be over by now. But here I am, limping my way home, bicycle on tow, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in...well, everywhere.

Even getting my key in the door is difficult. My fingers still hurt from when they were crushed between the bike handle and the the ground. I manage it eventually, and limp into my flat. No one should be home. Penny is out, and Baz is-

“Aleister fucking Crowley, Snow!”

Standing right there. Fuck...

He’s removing take away boxes from a plastic bag. Well, he was. Now he’s frozen and staring at me. His grey eyes are bigger than dinner plates as they roam over me. I hate and love the way they’re filled with fear and worry. Because it shows how much Baz really does care for me, but I hate myself for making him scared.

“Hi, love,” I say hoarsely. “I had, uh, a bit of a tumble.”

“A bit?!” He snaps. “You look like you fell through a bloody grain thresher! What the fuck happened?!”

I can’t answer his question, not now. I need to go lay down. I limp a bit farther forward and lean my bike against the wall. But I guess I hadn’t realised how much I was using it as a crutch, because next thing I know I’m falling forward. Something strong catches me though. My injury clouded brain takes a second to realise it’s Baz holding me up.

“Easy, easy, love. Don’t hurt yourself even more.” His voice is barely more than a whisper. It’s so soft and comforting. I could probably spend forever just listening to it. He easily scoops me up in his arms. Crowley, sometimes I forget how strong he is. I sigh and press my nose into his neck.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“No apologizing, Simon. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

I hum in agreement. Baz carries me towards the bathroom, then sits me down on the toilet. I vaguely hear him turn on the tub water. He carefully takes off my shoes, then socks, then my stupid riding gloves. He starts peeling off my torn t-shirt. I wince at having to lift my arms over my head. The jeans and pants are a bit easier. My legs are less banged up, except for the massive bruise on the side of my thigh. Baz accidentally touches it and I yelp.

“Shit, sorry,” he hisses.

“It’s alright,” I say.

“Let’s get you into the bath, okay?”

I stand up with shaky legs, leaning on Baz quite a lot. But he takes all my weight and helps me into the tub. I let out a long sigh. Fucking hell, the hot water feels good on my sorebody. I sit there for awhile soaking it in. I’m not sure how long. When I open my eyes again, Baz is still sitting at my side, watching me.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now?” He sounds calm, but I can hear the twinge of worry in his tone.

I sigh and sink a bit deeper into the tub. “It’s not that complicated. Y’know how I’ve been bicycling, yeah? For more exercise?” He nods. “Well, I thought I’d try a different route today. One that included a hill.” Baz gives me a withering look, one of someone who’s had to deal with my dumb shit for a long time. “Getting up it was the easier part, actually. Getting down was fun at first, but then I hit a rock. I was going too fast that I couldn’t control it. So...I sort of skidded my way down the last fifth of the hill. Luckily I was wearing my helmet or my brain would’ve been street soup. The rest of me took most of the damage.”

“I can see that.”.

“Yeah,” I grumble. “So I limped all the way home. I expected the place to be empty so I could lick my wounds on my own. But you’ve decided to drop by, I see.”

“Yes, I did. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, but I see we’ll have to deal with this first.”

I wave lazily. “I’m fine. Just leave me here.”

“Shut up, Snow, you’re not. And I’m not leaving.” He picks up a washcloth from the basket Penny keeps by our sink. He kneels next to the tub and dips it in the water.

“Baz-”

“Did I not just say shut up, Snow? Now lean forward so I can get your back. It’s a mess.”

If I hadn’t  rolled down a hill today, I would’ve protested more. But instead, I just lean forward, chin resting on my knees. Baz presses the cloth to between my shoulders and I sigh, long and relieved. Merlin, it does feel good. Realistically, Baz could’ve just cast some cleaning spell on me. But instead he carries me to the tub and runs a bath and cleans me himself. He’s such a good boyfriend. Sometimes I still can’t believe he’s with me, or that we’re like this.

Baz washes my wounds slowly for who knows how long. He takes his time over all the dirt and cuts. He’s so careful. Wait..why is he shaking? I can feel his hands getting all jittery as he pressed the washcloth to me. I open my eyes to look down at the water, and my heart completely freezes. It’s tinted red. Oh shit. It’s in the evening. He probably hasn’t had a “drink” yet today. Fuck, fuck, he’s probably hurting so much.

“Crap,” I hiss, “Baz, the blood, I forgot, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies, but his cracking voice certainly doesn’t agree.

“Baz, stop torturing yourself.”

“I’m _fine._ ”

 _“Baz.”_ I turn to him. His lips are pulled tight together. He’s probably keeping his fangs from coming out by sheer force of will. But he looks so bloody pained. I hate that. “You’ve helped a lot, and thank you for that. But you can go now, okay? I don’t want us both to suffer needlessly.”

He glares at me, similar to how he used to intimidate me at Watford. But it only lasts a second, melting into an expression of concern. “Can you get up alright?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’ll be okay.”

He contemplated it for a minute. I can see the gears turning in his big brain. But I know he’s reasonable, so he nods once, and walks off. I really hope he raids that blood reserve we have in the fridge. He needs it.

It takes far longer than it should for me to get out of the tub. I feel like a newborn fawn, with such unstable legs. I keep a hand on the wall for help. With the towel around me, I make my way to my room. Baz is probably hidden away in the kitchen. I hope he’s alright. I sit down on my bed with a sigh, then don’t move for awhile. My body hurts too much. It’s just like how I’d feel after a fight at Watford. Like a deflated, beaten up balloon. It’s not a feeling I’ve missed.

“You alright, Snow?”

I open my eyes. Baz is standing in the doorway. He looks better, more his calm and collected self. That’s good.

“I think I’m gonna sit here forever,” I mumble. “Then I’ll never fall down a hill again.”

“Well, that does sound nice, and appeals to me because you wouldn't die from your own stupidity. But I could help with the current damage.” He waves his ivory wand once with one raised brow.

I chuckle as best I can. “I suppose that’d be good too.”

Baz smirks. I expect him to stand in front of me to cast the spell, but he sits next to me, an arm around me. I lean into him, my head on his bony shoulder. I barely hear his voice. It’s so quiet, but I can feel his magic washing over me. It’s not his usual grease fire burn though, more a soothing warmth. I sigh and lean closer.

“Better?” Baz whispers.

“M-hm.” We sit there together for a quiet, calm moment. I like these kind of moments. No more fighting, or yelling, or throwing insults. Just the two of us. Together.

Of course, that’s when my stomach decides to growl very loudly.

“You hungry?” He chuckles (arsehole).

“Shut up,” I mutter. “I forgot lunch.”

“Well, then it’s lucky that I’ve got a pile of Indian food in the living room.”

“Mm, that sounds wonderful.”

“Get dressed. I’ll go reheat it.”

“Okay.”

Baz presses one last light kiss to my forehead, then goes back to the kitchen. I get dressed quite slowly, careful not to touch my still sore muscles. Baz may have healed my cuts but I still rolled down a hill. Nothing can fix that except good old fashioned rest and relaxation. Man, I’d love to have that.

I walk slowly walk into the living room. Baz is casting **_“some like it hot”_ ** on a styrofoam package. He opens it to reveal steaming samosas. My mouth is already watering. I plop myself on the sofa next to him. He hands me a plate, and I start shovelling on the wonderful smelling food. But I make sure to leave a lot for Baz.

“You can take more,” he says.

I shake my head. “Nah. You need to eat more, anyway.”

“I’m fine.”

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other anymore, Baz.”

He levels me with cool look. Not deriding or even angry. Just observing. Looking for any hint of mockery I suppose, but I know he won’t find any. Eventually, he sighs, and starts getting his own meal. He doesn’t pile his plate like me, but he gets a reasonable amount. More than he would’ve a year ago.

“What should we watch?” I ask through a mouthful of chicken

Baz picks up the remote. “How about Doctor Who? We were halfway through the first Tennant season last week, right?”

I smile at him, leaning onto him again. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

He picks up the remote and brings up Netflix. “The Idiot’s Lantern” starts but I’m not watching that closely. I’m more interested in cuddling with my boyfriend. It makes eating a bit more difficult, but he’s more important than food. (Wow, I really do love him.)

Once we’re finished, Baz puts an arm around my shoulder. We lean closer and closer together as the show continues. Eventually, my head ends up in his lap. He strokes my hair slowly. The episode ends (the Doctor saved the day of course), and I flip over to look up at him.

“Hey,” I say, “wanna watch that cello guy documentary? It’s still on our Netflix list.”

His eyebrows pull together. “His name is Yo-Yo Ma, and you won’t like it.”

“Maybe not. But you’ve been trying Doctor Who for me so I’ll try classical music stuff.”

Baz’s face does a funny thing. Like he’s trying to smile but he’s exasperated, and maybe confused? It’s impossible to tell. He runs his thumb across my forehead. “You’re still such a hero sometimes,” he says.

“Hm, thank you?” I reply, slightly confused. I really can’t tell if that’s supposed a compliment or not.

He sighs, cupping my jaw. “Even after you’ve rolled down a bloody hill, getting more scraped up than an idiot drunk in a bar brawl, you still think of others before yourself.”

Okay, now I’m even more confused. His words are kind, but his tone seems annoyed. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s an infuriating thing.” He plays with one of my curls, wrapping it around his long finger. I watch his face soften, the muscles relaxing and lips twitching slightly upwards. “As well as very sweet and noble.”

Crowley, my heart is beating way too fast. Baz and I are still getting used to complimenting each other. But we’re getting better at saying nice things, and much slowly better at receiving them. Just a few months ago, I would’ve shied away, or thrown an insult to break the tension. But not now. Instead, I lean up and chastely kiss Baz. Just a short press to his cool lips. (I’m too tired for anything more.) He leans into it, and sighs when I pull away. I fall back down onto his comfortable lap. Baz resumes stroking my hair.

“Let’s watch cello guy,” I mumble.

“I told you, his name is Yo-Yo Ma.”

“I’m injured, give me a break.”

“Fine. One time pass because your injured. And pathetic.”

I snuggle closer, throwing an arm over his knees. “You called me sweet and noble.”

“Yes, and don’t make me regret it.”

He turns on the documentary. It’s strange and I don’t fully understand what’s going on. But Baz seems riveted. That’s good. I let myself get lulled into half sleep, just focusing on Baz’s touch and relaxing. Which is why I don’t really notice the door open and close.

“Aleister Crowley, Simon, what happened to your bike!?”

I slowly sit up, smiling as best I can do with my aching face. “Hey, Pen. My bike and I, uh, sorta fell down a hill.”

Her eyes bulge out. She rushes towards me, holding my face tightly. “‘Sorta fell down a hill’?! Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Baz was here and he cleaned me up and healed me.”

She lets out a sigh. “Well, thank magic. For once I’m glad Baz decided to break into our flat.”

He snorts, glaring at her like usual. “I’m not breaking in. I have a key.”

“You don’t live here. It’s breaking in!”

He lifts up the carton that still has quite a lot chicken in it. “Crappy take away peace offering?”

Her mouth twists, but eventually settles on a smirk. “Fine. Gimme the food, Basilton.”

Baz hands off the box to her. She puts an arm around me in a side hug as she sits down. I pat her hand and smile. “How was the English department mixer?”

“Boring,” Penny mutters, shoving chicken in her mouth. “Most people are boring. I’m going to stick to you two.”

“Aw, I feel so loved,” Baz deadpans.

“Don’t get used to it, Pitch.”

“Crowley, both of you,” I sigh, but it quickly turns into a yawn. Fuck I’m tired. “Shit. I should get to bed. Been an overly eventful day.”

Baz stands up and offers his hand. “I think I’ll join you in that, Snow.”

Penny points her fork at us, still chewing her food. “No funny business please. I’ve run out of ear plugs.”

“Please,” I groan, “I fell down a hill. I’m too tired for any ‘funny business.’”

“Unfortunately,” Baz says with a smirk as he grabs my hand. I roll my eyes. Penny fake gags.

“Night, Pen!”

“Night, you two,” she groans. She’s already changed Netflix to her cooking show. She’ll be up watching it for hours.

When I get to the bed, I happily flop down on it. “Ow!” I yelp. Oh shit, my still really leg stings! I roll onto my other side very carefully.

“Are you alright?” Baz asks with genuine concern.

“Thigh still hurts a lot,” I mutter.

I hear him step closer. He carefully pushes up my shorts. He touches a spot and I hiss again. He immediately pulls away. “Sorry, sorry. Your bruise is smaller but it’s still there. Magic can’t fix everything, unfortunately.”

“Don’t I know it.” I nuzzle into my pillow, sinking into the softness. “Mm, kiss it better?”

“No,” he snaps

I pout overdramatically. “Spoilsport.”

“I do have limits, Snow. Now go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

I listen as Baz goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He’s humming his favourite violin song to tim his brushing, like I’ve heard him do a hundred times. (I sort of like how I know that.) Soon he returns and starts shuffling around to get changed. He’s got his own drawer filled with silk pyjamas, but he ends up just stealing my shirts and trackies half the time anyway. I’m barely awake now, seconds away from falling asleep. I wait for him to lay down next to me as usual, but instead I hear his soft footsteps stop at my side. I’m not sure what’s going on. Maybe I’m dreaming?

Suddenly, something soft and cool presses to my thigh, right where my bruise is. My muscles tense and I barely hold back my gasp. It feels strange but also wonderful.

“You’re an idiot,” he sighs against my damaged skin. “I love you.”

Baz slips under the sheet next to me. His arm snakes around my waist, and I tuck my head under his chin. (He’s wearing my shirt, I can feel it.) Sometimes I wonder if I could stay in his embrace forever. It’s not realistic, of course. But it took us so long to get here, and the sappy part of me wants to savour every time we’re together. He’s good to me, even when I screw up. And apparently I’m good to him too. Maybe I’m not such a terrible boyfriend after all. So perhaps we could just stay here. I wouldn’t mind.

I push closer to him. He grips my shirt tighter. I listen to his soft, even breathes, and I feel completely calm.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeaaaaah this is just cute a fluff piece. Which I like to write, so I had fun. Little heads up, I've got a big idea that may take awhile but I think it'll be really good. Hope to get that out soon!
> 
> PS: I've got one more request currently in my inbox but I'm still accepting them from the [Signs of Affection list](https://bazypitchandsimonsnow.tumblr.com/post/173489875528/signs-of-affection-romance-prompt-meme). Feel free to send me one and I promise I will get to it. Thanks for reading :)


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